Gone, and Pretty Much Forgotten

We’re losing things. We may not even realize it’s happening, because they’re the kinds of things we don’t pay a lot of attention to, so we fail to notice when they disappear. It’s something like when a casual acquaintance moves to Paraguay without telling us, and twelve years later we wake up and say, “Hey, what ever happened to Don?”

One of the things we’re losing is the ability to slam down the phone. Until about a decade ago, most of us had those big, clunky telephones that were attached to the wall or sitting on a desk. When the person on the other end said something that really drove us insane, we could hold the receiver a foot away from our mouths, scream our heads off, and then hang up as though we were trying to send a shock wave through the wires. In reality, no matter how hard we slammed down the phone, the other person heard the same normal click, but it gave us a sense of satisfaction to know that we had cut short the conversation with an explosion of sound, at least on our end.

Now that everyone has a cell phone, how do people acquire this same feeling of emotional release? Do they press the hang-up button really hard? That seems unsatisfying. Do they throw the phone against the wall? That seems wasteful. I think there must be a great deal of pent-up hostility accumulating in our culture because of these small, lightweight, expensive devices that have to be handled with such care.

Modern television equipment has caused a similar loss. It used to be that when you wanted to change the channel, you’d have to walk over to the set and turn the knob. If you were patient enough, or had good timing, you could wait for someone else to get off the couch. Then at just the right moment, you could say, “While you’re up, would you mind grabbing me a root beer?” But no one gets up anymore. They just look for the remote, and complain if it’s so far away that they have to stretch their arm to reach it.

In the same way, if someone was headed to the grocery store, you might ask them to pick you up a bag of potato chips. But today, chips come in a thousand varieties, so asking a friend to take on that responsibility would be like insisting that they name your newborn baby, or select the options on your new car.

This is all the result of having too many choices, and too much convenience. There was a time, not so long ago, when you were able to make declarative statements without fear of being publicly corrected. For example, you could say, “Willie Mays hit three home runs in the 1952 World Series,” and very few people – even true baseball fans — would be in a position to argue. But now, within thirty seconds, any wiseguy with Wikipedia can discover and announce that Mays had only one post-season homer in his entire career, and that was in the 1971 playoffs against the Pittsburgh Pirates, and that his team, the Giants, made it to the World Series in 1951 and 1954, but not in ‘52. And then you’d have to admit you were wrong, and make a silent promise to yourself to never speak to anyone ever again.

I can recall stopping at gas stations to ask for directions. There would always be a man who pumped gas, cleaned windshields, changed oil, and repaired tires. He’d use a filthy rag to get the cap off your radiator so he could check the water level. It was an oasis of utility and information in a desert of dead batteries and unclear road signs. There’d be nothing in the station to eat except the cashews and jelly beans in the red, cast-iron machines standing in the corner facing the cash register. There were free maps, too, but before you could get one unfolded, the man would tell you in explicit detail how to get anywhere within a ten-mile radius of his leaded gasoline pump.

If I’m lost these days, I don’t even bother stopping at a gas station. There’s nobody working the pumps or fixing flats anymore, or anyone who could even find your radiator. True, there’s a bright and colorful miniature supermarket in place of the grimy old pit stop, and it may be stocked with sandwiches and snacks, magazines and lottery tickets. But the person behind the counter is unfamiliar with the town, because she lives in the next county. Such is the state of our economy – and the level of lost opportunities — that people are commuting to their job at the gas station.

Fortunately, I suppose, we no longer need to ask for directions. We have access to websites that provide precise instructions for getting from any point on the globe to any other point – along with the actual distances for each step. And, of course, we also have a global positioning system, a valuable asset if we’re in the middle of the Atlantic, but a safety net that reduces the chances of stumbling upon a quaint town or an unmarked beach.

As we become more adept at employing some electronic gadget to record and store every event – from the birth of that newborn to the purchase of that car — we lose the ability to experience those parts of our lives. We fumble to describe what occurred, offering instead to show the pictures or play the video. And if it isn’t on our Facebook page, it didn’t happen.

I’m not saying I miss carbon paper or Polaroid cameras. But I wonder, sometimes, where all those gas station mechanics went, with their filthy rags and their mental roadmaps. Have they gotten lost themselves? Did they go out for potato chips and decide to not come back? Or did they just move to Paraguay, and I never noticed?

* * * * *

Footnote: I once called Willie Mays on his unlisted phone number. He got really angry, and hung up on me. In fact, he slammed the phone down. I know, because I felt the floor shake. It’s true.

I know who Pele, George Best and Ferenc Puskas are but as that to Mays character – sorry. You wouldn’t believe how little we see/hear of baseball (or was he a footballer?) here in England.

So, no. Not kidding. Have I really gone way down in your estimation?

Joe DiMaggio was a baseball ball player, right? I know that because he married Marilyn Monroe and he’s mentioned in Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Mrs Robinson’. So you see, we Brit’s do know some baseball players. 🙂

Still a great post, even if you did mention people I’ve never heard of. . .

Willie Mays was a baseball player for the New York — and later the San Francisco — Giants. He is widely considered to be one of the greatest players in the history of the game. But I understand that you’re not familiar with him, or much of baseball. There are countless soccer (football) and hockey players I’ve never heard of.

“As we become more adept at employing some electronic gadget to record and store every event – from the birth of that newborn to the purchase of that car — we lose the ability to experience those parts of our lives”….how true this is. Sometimes we are so busy trying to take pictures or video of a special event, we don’t really SEE the event itself – and miss out on something special because we wanted to desperately to share it. Another wonderful post Charles:)

I often have that thought while traveling, Ashley. I see people with their video cameras, so intent on getting everything recorded that they don’t seem to be absorbing anything through their own senses. But then, later, I sometimes wish I had something other than my faulty memory to help me relive the experience. It sounds boring, but I guess balance is the key.

great posts ! you are on the ball about the cellphone thing …i actually threw mine against the wall the other day and now need a new phone…. we are running out of ways to express ourselves, our frustrations ….no wonder people are killing each other

We also seem to be growing intolerant of verbal expressions of anger or even dislike. I wonder if it’s a coincidence that the more we try to muzzle ourselves, the more frequent the unimaginable acts of violence become.

An excellent observation! I wonder if there isn’t a connection. What’s interesting is that we also simmer in a high-noise, high-aggression, high-violence environment in terms of our daily media bath. I saw a slogan recently, “Stomp out bullying” Great sentiment, but an odd way to put it… “Stomp”? Really? That was the best word they could find?

I finally got around to watching the third season of Game of Thrones (a show I regret any involvement with). It is a vile, ugly mix of dishonesty, twisted sex and graphic, casual violence. (And it’s on HBO, so you get the standard violence ramped up plus all the sex.) I’d say it was one of the most revolting things I’d ever seen on TV, except that it’s just one data point in a sea of them.

We gorge ourselves on a level of daily violence that, if you can take a step back and actually notice it, is astonishing. As a simple exercise, just do a body count for one week as you watch TV.

Even the “news” mainly sells conflict and polarized views these days. They know it plays.

The population crowding in Japan resulted in a highly structured society burdened with heavy behavior rules and extreme outlets. Our environment is becoming compressed not just in population, but in information, so it’s not surprising things are getting weird up in here.

I don’t watch enough television to do a body count, WS. But I have struggled in the video store to find a decent movie that doesn’t have someone holding a gun in the picture on the box. I also occasionally look at the listings of what’s playing at the local theater, and am astounded by how many of them include the phrase “Brutal violence.” The entertainment industry knows what sells. And as you said, so do the news media.

Indeed. One consequence of retiring is that I’ve been able to start catching up on the “smaller” films that have gotten back burnered due to time constraints. Modern mainstream movies are often bland crap, but like MacDonald’s, it’s bland crap that’s familiar. In a world that’s so complicated and difficult to understand, one can see why people crave familiarity. (Studios have realized how much people crave the known and familiar. This is why most movie trailers today are pretty much mini versions of the entire film. People want to know what they’re getting.)

I feel that same tug, so I have to sometimes almost force myself to sit down and watch those non-mainstream films. What’s odd about that is that I’ve learned time and time again that those small films usually blow that mainstream crap out of the water. It’s the film that’s just one copy on the rental shelf because there’s no demand for it. Some of those are the real film gems (and some of them, you’ll see why there’s just one copy and you’ll wonder why there was even one)..

That last one, as you might imagine, is about baseball, and while it’s a fairly traditional sports movie, it has a number of elements that rise it above the pack. Based on a true story, for one, and it’s based on a truly astonishing (Little League) championship season. It was one of the most powerfully touching movies I’ve seen in a while.

It’s a rare man indeed who stops to ask for directions, so look at you, stopping at a service station and asking someone to actually point out the way. I miss those chunky phones and the added option of slamming down the receiver when annoyed. Denied that previous pleasure and satisfaction, I am now forced to passively aggressively lie and state that I am not at home when a telemarketer calls and asks for me by name, predictably mis-pronouncing my surname because he is calling from Mumbai. Had I the pleasure of a chunky phone in hand, I would have been able to smash the receiver down into its cradle. God, I miss the good ole days.

The new annoyance for me is the follow-up customer satisfaction call after every visit to the bank or the service department at the car dealership. I almost never offer anything more detailed than “Completely Satisfied,” because I just want to get off the phone. And I think they know that.

I don’t know what happened to those guys, but I sure miss the days when I could go into an auto-parts store and buy the part I needed just by supplying the specs. The old guys used to listen and go, “Oh, yeah, we’ve got that. No problem.”

These days I’m met by a blank stare and the questions, “What make and model car is that for? What year? What engine? What…?” After I explain for the umpteenth time that those things don’t matter because it’s not a stock engine, they say, “Sorry, that’s the only way to look it up. I can’t help you.” They’ve got a warehouse full of parts, but they don’t know a carburetor from a camshaft.

Diane, I keep making the mistake of asking for help by sending an email. Inevitably, I get a form-letter response that doesn’t answer my question, and spits back information that I already know. Then I have to hit the Delete key, as hard as I can.

You always tap into my brain for these posts. While I was never one to slam down the phone, I am one to smack gadgets. I miss the days of getting the vertical hold to hold by smacking — it was so satisfying. I also miss having good things to watch on that smackable gadget.

BTW, I once wrong-dialed a White House number. A woman answered and shouted at me “How did you get this number, it’s private!” before slamming down the phone. I’m pretty sure it was Nancy Reagan.

I’m not absolutely sure.
It was during my early, lobbying days and I couldn’t get through to the office that could answer my question. So I did what was often quite effective in those days, I changed a digit here and there. I ended up with a woman with a very familiar voice who threatened to investigate me for calling that number. She was not nice. Then again, I didn’t like her husband either, and he was nice.

Great post Charles. 😀
I miss those old fashioned phones – you knew you were being heard when you held the huge earpiece to your ear. Holding a little flat cell phone thingie to my ear feels as if I’m holding a book to my ear. I have to stop myself from saying,”Hello? Is someone there? Can you really hear me?”

I have a great memory of my father driving into the gas station of a seaside town – a thousand miles from home – where we were going to spend our summer vacation, and saying to the guy at the pump, “Hello we’re new. Where’s the — Hotel?”

Rosie, did you ever play a trick on someone by unscrewing the plastic mouthpiece of the phone and removing that round metal thing inside? I remember watching my father talking to someone, and he could hear everything they said, but they couldn’t hear him. It was a great joke, although I seem to have repressed whatever happened after that.

OMG I can just imagine what happened to you after your father’s phone call… My father kept a belt on the back of his chair in the dining room “for the boys…” My sisters and I were too well behaved to ever get a whipping 😀

My parents were largely opposed to physical punishment (and it’s possible I’m an example of that having been a bad idea), but one time I did something (no memory of what) bad enough to rate not just a spanking, but one with a yardstick. My dad was uncomfortable with the idea and “pulled the punch” so much he barely tapped me.

I like that I can Google my way to every bit of irrelevant information imaginable, even though I have proven myself wrong on numerous occasions as a result. And I like that my car’s GPS prevents me from making wrong turns because once I’ve gone somewhere, I can never quite remember how to go back the way I came–but I would gladly relinquish those conveniences and many others if it would guarantee a return to those simpler days when choices were fewer, decisions were easier, communication was more straight-forward and an unmarked beach was just around the next bend. Too often, in our quest to make life simpler, we make it much more difficult and complex, and in our desire to “know everything,” we give ourselves so much more to worry about.

I still have one of those phones hanging on my kitchen wall. I seldom use it because–after all–I would have to get up when the portable phone is always just right there. Thank goodness there are still doors to slam when I really need to get my point across.

Karen, one of the things that surprises me is how we continually find ways to fill our time. Fifty years ago, the futurists were predicting a nearly effortless lifestyle, supported by technological wonders that would make us all more efficient and less stressed. And much of what they said should have happened, because we can now accomplish more in one hour than our grandparents could do in a day. But we’ve taken that extra time and filled it with a lot of meaningless activity. (Sorry — I have more I wanted to say, but I need to check my email, again.)

Charles, your comment above sounds like the start of another thought-provoking post. Are we more efficient? Probably. Less stressed? I don’t think so. And your notion that we’ve filled all that extra time with meaningless activity is dead-on. Just last night my husband was suggesting that I write a blog about how much busier I am now that I’m retired–which seems to be true, and yet I have so little to show for all that “busy-ness.” Hmmm …

Other things that are vanishing: free State maps. Rolodex. Pencil sharpeners. Can openers that really worked. The Operator…does anyone remember that you used to be able to dial 0 and talk to a human being? For that matter, dial telephones (I probably have the last one. Now it’s called a ‘rotary phone’.) have vanished.
I will never give up my landline. Cell’s are fine, but they are worthless in a long term power outage (which are, unfortunately, increasingly common)
Some things that DESERVE to disappear: the grass trimmers that had a vertical squeeze handle and a horizontal blade. They were as close to torturing oneself as one could get, and were so ineffective that you could probably cut a blade of grass neater with your teeth than with the trimmer.
“Fountain’ pens. I never had one that didn’t leak, and when you’re a kid in catholic school, you wear white blouses as part of a uniform. Blue ink will never, ever come out of that overly expensive, scratchy white blouse.
I’ll probably catch hell for this, but one item that should disappear, never to return: bow ties. The man who wears one looks……well, dorky. For some reason, the State Patrol uniform in my state includes a bow tie (on both genders) as part of the uniform, and I can never look at at a State trooper in a bow tie and take them seriously. Even with the Smokey Bear hat.

We used fountain pens in Catholic school, too. It’s no wonder our desks were covered with blue stains. And I still have a pair of those grass trimmers. Within two minutes, carpal tunnel syndrome begins to set in. I can’t remember the last time I used a rotary dial phone, though. When push-button phones first appeared, didn’t you have to specify to the phone company which kind of service you wanted? It was kind of like having to tell the gas station attendant that you wanted unleaded.

Often, when someone waxes nostalgic, someone else chirps up that people have always waxed nostalgic about “the good old days” and, gee, aren’t cell phones and refrigerators neat?

But what if all those complainers were right all along? What if things have been going downhill ever since they invented sliced bread, pizza and dirt? Thanks to medical science we may live longer (and get more time to wax nostalgic), and refrigerators and cell phones are neat, but I can’t help thinking we made a wrong turn a long, long time ago.

BTW: The trick to a good phone slam is making sure other parts of the receiver rattle against the base before you actually engage the switchhooks (the little buttons that stick up). And if you’re really pissed, bang the receiver mouthpiece on the table a few times to get their attention. 👿

All seriousness aside, I thought you’d told the story. You called him, and he hung up (forcefully). Was that just a tease to a deeper, more amazing (and hilarious) story that illuminates the human condition, blows the lid off professional sports and calls into question all we know about baseball (and therefore life)?

Can we assume you were travelling with your Mom or was your Dad a really progressive kind of guy? Stopping to ask for directions is a really big deal in any day and age.
I miss slamming down the phone.

My father would stop to ask for directions when he needed to. But the memory I was describing was, at least in part, based on my own experiences as a young driver. Things changed very quickly, didn’t they?

They really did. Imagine if if you were born in the early 1900 and lived to celebrate the millennium. Imagine the changes you saw. The first 40 years you could count on one hand the changes then the next 20 there were a lot more. By the time you reached the year 2000 things changed so fast there was no way to keep track. Thinking about it boggles my mind.

That right there, I think, is our real death knell. The level of obsessive growth is not sustainable, yet the world economy is based on that growth. As all bubbles do, this one has to burst eventually, and the economic woes of the last five years will seem like a walk in the park.

One of the things that we kids used to do with the old fashioned handset telephone was “play” on the phone. Of course, this was a thing you did when your parents were occupied elsewhere. Somehow I knew the activity was one that would ‘get me in trouble’.
The game involved your randomly dialing a phone number and ask the person who answered the phone if “your refrigerator is running” and if so, “well, you better go catch it.” Once a neighborhood boy told me that if I dialed a certain number I should ask for the “back room’ and would get to talk to a girl in the “bunny club”. I really thought, at the time, he was talking about RABBITS…….
We thought those games hysterically funny. And we had our share of slammers! Now I’d hate it, and am glad for caller ID on my landline and ability to block unknown callers.

My older brother used to tell me to call the operator because she was waiting to talk to me. I did it once and was always terrified of her after that. I even got nervous if I had to dial any telephone number that had a zero in it.

I miss the old fashioned anonymous phone, where I could make a call and the recipient of the call had no idea who was calling. Ah, those secret calls I made to guys I had crushes on. It was wonderful; talk to your secret love, while he has no clue of your identity. Caller ID has destroyed chances of having a little good old mischief.

Ahh you are so right as usual… oh and funny 🙂 Another thing that is being lost, never to be remembered, is the ability to write with a pen or pencil and spell correctly; (I am aware, that commenting to an American crowd, leaves ‘correctly’ up to interpretation! 😉 ). Just the other day, my seven year old informed me that there is no point to him practising his handwriting because when he’s older, everything will be ‘speech to text’!! What the?!
I calmly informed him that his handwriting skills will be in great demand after he’s invented some device that causes all electronic devices to be rendered useless in the future. Ha! Take that smart seven year old! 😉

Also, the ability to read handwriting may become more valuable for doing research, especially when using old, primary sources. And without those writing skills, the loss of electricity would severely hamper our ability to communicate. I’m keeping my pencils.

Just to let you know, I remember the days with no remotes. That was when whole families would watch the same program at the same time, (No VCRs or PVRs either).like Ed Sullivan, “Toast of the Town”. But the root beer ploy still works like a charm. You just have to wait a little longer…until the missus takes a bathroom break.

SO true Charles, although I still lose my keys, all the time and at an increasingly rapid rate of incidence. I suppose keyless cars are just around the corner so I’ll have that going for me, as long as there’s an app to remind me where I parked.

Since I’m on vacation at the moment “south of the border,” the GPS things resonates especially vibrantly. Having a bright shinny new Garmin with me for the first time ever has made me feel, well, God-like (not easy to do considering I’m an atheist). I can drive anywhere I want, or overshoot any turn, and instead of accidentally ending up on an abandoned logging road in northern Minessota, the voice from the GPS simply keeps re-calculating and patiently advising me of all the new turns I need to take to get back on track. I never get lost anymore, but the flip-side is I never feel I’ve actually accomplished anything either. Sure I arrive, but I’ve made no real “investment” in the trip and correspondingly feel no rewarding sense of “return.” The allure, the adventure of traveling has diminished and — for me at least — this has always been the most exciting part of being away from home. Maybe life really is really all about the journey after all. Wouldn’t that be ironic? No doubt I’ll be blogging about it when I get back next week. Stay tuned.

So very true: violently slamming your thumb down on a little rubber button just doesn’t carry the same satisfaction as phone slamming once did. And I suppose the television remote is responsible for those reclining loungers with table between that conceals a refrigerator. All you’d need now is a potty chair built in and folks could sit in front of The Tube (which no longer contains tubes of any sort) for days on end. At least until the mini-fridge needs restocking.

Oh, you did stir up a dust cloud of nostalgia with the old gas stations. I do remember when gas stations were SERVICE stations not convenience stores with gas. In fact I *was* that helpful fellow in my early years, before self-service and computers on wheels. When we greeted every customer with a cheery “Hello, what can I do for you?” and they had to argue us OUT of checking their oil and water — and I’d feel snubbed because they preferred to do it themselves, later.

It was a time when businesses valued customers, glassware came in laundry soap and Cracker Jacks offered small treasures in every box.

Oh man, you got me thinking and worrying again. Thanks, BB. Thanks a whole heckava lot. Now im missing my old family phone, the cold and springy cord I used to mindlessly wrap around my arms and legs while talking for hours on end to someone who meant the world. I think it was 1976, don’t quote me on that, when I discovered doritos could taste like something other than salty corn. It all started with Nacho Cheese! Once we just went to the store and picked out a bag of chips, regular or bbq, Cheetos or cheese puffs, fridos…oh yes, and then there were also ruffles for the potato chips. But now…that snack isle is just another endless mile. And we’re not even supposed to eat the stuff because we’re all getting so fat. Jeez. And I know what happened to the gas station attendant guys. They divorced their wives because suddenly in the 1970s that was the thing to do. Wait, no, I mean their wives divorced them, and then they sold their homes (because back then if you worked at a gas station you could buy a house and support your wife and kids on that income). And back then nobody looked down upon you because you didn’t have a college education that would one day cost your grandchildren 3 times as much as you paid for your house. Your name was Stan, and everybody knew it because it was embroidered in red satin thread on the breast pocket of your grimey work shirt.

Neat write … as usual 🙂 Gone, and long lost forgotten also are the phone party lines … I immigrated to Canada in 1982 … smack into the middle of the Alberta county setting … we shard the same phone line with 2 other neighbours back then … the three families of us had different rings to identify, who the phone call was for … we had three rings … so unless we heard 3 rings, it was not for us … and we didn’t pick up the receiver … easy enough, but if We wanted to make a phone call, that meant waiting until the line was free … so at times, when the line was taken by our lovely neighbours … we would very well be able to listen in on their conversations … and vice versa … once we were in the process of buying another quarter section of land … and voila, in no time the whole community knew about it … I loved talking to my mumme in Europe in Polish back then, as you can imagine 🙂

I wanted to pop back in to thank you, Charles, for saving me from an unpleasant chore. I scheduled myself to go up on The Ridge with my weed whacker and do some trimming. The Ridge is my least favorite place to mow.

Before I went out I read this article and suddenly I was powerfully gripped by nostalgia that pressed me down into my chair and demanded satisfaction. It would not relent until I’d caressed, stroked and pinched those feelings into bits & bytes represented as letters on the computer screen. Nothing much, just a quickie; a brain spill, but my psyche was sated.

However, by the time I had completed this, then proof read it a couple of times, posted it to my blog, proof read it again, located and inserted a suitable photograph and scheduled it to post tomorrow morning, the sky opened up and it started to rain.

Even if the rain stops soon, weed whacking wet grass (and The Ridge is mostly weeds – even worse) is like blending a salad with the lid off. Ech! So, perhaps TOMORROW, but not today.

You just reminded me how much I miss the clunky phones you can slam down the receiver. The good thing about those is that I could always get out of a call by playing around with the buttons that the receiver’s supposed to go on so the conversation cuts in and out. “What’s that…I can’t hear you clearly…we must have a really bad line…sorry, gotta hang up….” And then you can leave the phone “off the hook”, thereby making the caller think the line’s truly broken, as he’ll only get a busy signal every time he calls.

Unfortunately, nowadays I don’t have to play around with any buttons and my cell phone call will “drop” mysteriously. Then, when I call back the person the person “is not available”. I suppose what goes around comes around. Thanks for another walk down memory lane, Charles.

I don’t remember who I was talking to, but I was once so desperate to get off the phone that I grabbed a plastic bag and started rustling it near the mouthpiece. It sounded exactly like static. We both agreed that the connection was bad and that we should hang up.

Poignant post, Charles. I do miss some of what life offered. Some of those little conveniences such as Iphones that connect us instantly to everything have taken away something even more valuable. Face-time. Some have lost the ability to connect with those sitting right across from them because they’re so busy tweeting, twittering, Facebooking, etc.

By the way, I interviewed Willie Mays when I was a radio reporter in Syracuse, New York. He was at the airport, and was not very warm and fuzzy. Others I interviewed in the sports world were far easier to talk to and with. (Maybe his disposition was due to jet lag.)

I assume your interview was a scheduled event, Judy. My phone call was unexpected and intrusive. Like you, I was at first a little surprised by his reaction, but have since realized that I formed an opinion of the guy based on a single, fifteen-second incident. Maybe he was in the middle of an argument with his wife, or maybe he spilled hot coffee on himself while reaching for the phone. There’s always another side. Usually, anyway.

The phone thing is part of why I refuse to get a smart phone; I like being able to snap my little flip phone closed, cutting off whatever the other person thought was so very worth my time. And a landline, despite their relatively endangered status, is on the list of Things That Will Tell Me I Have Grown Up–alongside a garage, a driveway, and matching wine glasses.

I love when you have the nostalgia posts like these, even though I do still remember the rhyme “the good old days, the good old days/we all so fondly speak of;/which, if they ever should come back/no one could stand a week of.” I don’t own a Garmin (I have an atlas) or a smart phone or a tablet or even a computer made in this decade, which makes me a 20something completely out of touch with my generation. But I sit at lunch with friends who are Instagramming their plate while hopping from conversation point to conversation point with me and wonder whether we are beginning to miss something in the world of technology, however helpful it may be.

I’d never heard of a Garmin until today. (I assume it’s a kind of GPS.) And I still don’t know what Instagram is. But your very last thought is, I think, the key. Technology can be helpful, but it can also get in the way if we overdo it. A hammer is a useful tool, but we can’t use it to fix everything.

I hope you stick to your guns and spread the word. We’re definitely losing something. The only question is whether the replacement will amount to much, and if modern trends are any indication…. [shrug]

I read a book a while back called The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less by Barry Schwartz. I picked it up because its theme resonated with me. I think we have way too many choices about way too many things. Walking down the cereal aisle at the local grocery store has become an exhausting expedition. Something deep inside of me questions the validity and value of so much choice.

And although the power of technology to put information at our fingertips and allow us to record every event, it’s astounding to me how much of life is still untouched by technology. I went to the Ohio Historical Society one time and I was thumbing through page after page of fascinating records of life in 19th century Ohio and I thought to myself “Why did these never turn up on my google searches?” There is so much hidden in libraries and attics and bookstores and closets–so much valuable, interesting information. If we limit ourselves just to what technology can find for us, we are doomed to a very narrow view. If we find the wise, old (and sometimes not-that-old) librarians and historians who know how to find the untouched sources, there is a much deeper and broader view of life out there. And if that’s true in historical research, I’m sure it’s true in other areas too (even baseball). I’m happy to say that the human element has not been made totally irrelevant–at least not yet.

I agree, Kevin. Technology can help lead us to more options, but it can’t provide every one of those options.

About having too many product choices, I think we’re paying for it in higher prices. Every product variation requires meetings, mock-ups, prototypes, a marketing strategy, consumer testing, shelf space, labeling — and on and on. Look at how many different kinds of cold & flu medicine there are. Having our own specialized brand of orange juice make make us feel special, but it’s still orange juice.

Oh my gosh, Brilliant! I think it’s important for us to appreciate these conveniences without raising our expectations and getting ahead of ourselves and away from each other. When I go to the grocery store, I spend about 80% of my time just staring at the variety of brands and options available to me and everyone else. I’m in awe of how many different toppings one can put on her salad. Then I always think about the people in other parts of the world who have less options and, perhaps, less headache in the end. It’s a tricky balance to maintain between convenience and consciousness (like scribblechic mentioned) but an important one to reach. Thanks for another awesome piece! Cheers.

And as I replied to Kevin (just above scribblechic), we’re paying for that variety, one way or another. I think if we could see the effect they have on retail prices, we might not value all those choices nearly as much.

Loved your post. I remember the phones well. I find myself arguing against the phone which is automated and stating if you wish this press one and if you wish that press two. Sometimes I think there is no one employed at our institutions. Internal Revenue puts you into a loop and you go round and round. You are caller 654 and your wait time is three years. I await the computers that can answer our questions by just asking. Pretty soon no one will talk to each other and our conversation during an entire day will be automated. Wait is this not the same as my typing this to you, are you really out there or is a computer going to be getting back to me?

Remember those days when you could speak to a person and get a real answer to your question? We used to have local Revenue Canada tax offices, and all you had to do was wander in and take a number, and pretty soon there was a tax expert helping you with specific problems and detailed answers. Now we have to call and hope our question fits into one of the automated, pre-recorded answers. It’s the same with the IRS. They’d much rather have you go to their website and get lost in the endless confusion.

Is it or are you programmed to state that. I need a DNA blood sample to be sure. Bye the bye I am originally from Brooklyn and went to Brooklyn College which by the way is in Brooklyn. I taught for four years in Bed Sty at the middle level. Now I wish that was automated instead of real.

I usually just talk about throwing the phone without actually throwing it. That seems to accomplish the same thing. Mostly, though, this is in response to the state of the phone line itself–not what the other person is saying, since I can’t hear it anyway. You might suspect I have a really inferior cell phone network, but it’s really the state of all of the cell networks in the place I call most often that’s at fault.

I think we can still make things work. Or, you can just move to a developing country. Where almost everything is a lot less convenient. That might be cheaper.

And it’s going to get worse before it gets better, I imagine. We have more and more people who want easier and faster service. Things seem to be changing too quickly, and systems become obsolete as fast as the devices they were designed to support. I don’t know how people can keep up with it. I can’t.

It’s true. Notice how many marketing campaigns are based on the idea that you can get something for nothing: Lose weight without dieting. Get fit without exercise. Learn without studying. Earn without working. And we keep falling for it.

Although I loved slamming the phone down on my mom and sometimes even my sister, I’m kinda glad we can’t anymore because I don’t want to feel that when my daughter hangs up on me someday. I do believe you about the floor shaking.

The current trend of technology is to make all human involvement obsolete. The greatest problem is going to be when civilization views the ability to look something up on the spot(smartphone) as actually knowing it. It is too say that intelligence itself is worthless, and the ability to use search engines just as valuable as knowledge. The real problem with this line of thinking is that culture must go on, so therefore we attribute new values to each beings worth. If you nullify what is real (knowing) and reward what is false(consulting a smartphone as if it is knowledge itself) then where does that leave us? It leaves us valuing the image of things rather than the reality of it. Knowledge is no longer important, it is pretending to know that matters. Ostracize the thinking man and give the intelligence award to the one who best displays an intellectual facade.

I imagine that the day isn’t too far off when we’ll learn by uploading information to a chip implanted in our brain. Then the education process loses all value. That feels like a loss to me — a partial loss anyway. But people in the future won’t understand that feeling.

Great post – thanks. Another function filled by ‘service stations’ – at least in smaller communities or perhaps non-suburban working class neighborhoods was ‘mentoring’. At least back when mechanical repair, fixing flats, and such was routine. In small communities – if the owner/operator was open to it – children could hang out at such a shop, could fetch wrenches, and over time learn a lot about mechanics, not only of vehicles, but generally. Since I grew up on a farm, I didn’t hang out at one of these but knew kids who did, and knew owner/operators who allowed this. My same experience, however, was following my Dad about. I learned a lot about physics — forces at play in relationship to one another. Because my setting was a general family farm, I also learned a lot about plant, animal and soil sciences. What I learned then has informed my awareness of human community dynamics, and even my politics (forces at play). Later, I attended a larger secondary school and met kids – even boys – who’d never changed a tire. They explained they drove to the service station on the flat to have it repaired or replaced. (I changed my first tire on a family vehicle when I was 12!) (Yep – made my first phone calls on a crank phone! Those were really nifty if you wanted to round up some 8 to 10 neighbors to deal with an emergency!)

Those are great memories. But it’s a time that’s fading fast. To continue your use of cars as an example, they’ve become so complex — with emissions sensors and other computerized components –that the average person is afraid to work on them. Another set of skills lost forever.

Re vehicle changes – computerized components, etc. .. yes I’m aware. Just as well perhaps that when teaching in an elem school I never did manage to develop a science unit around the idea of having the kids take a lawn mower engine apart and put it back together! (They were semi-rural kids and would have loved it! … guess at small engine level a lot of repairs can still be made so perhaps would have been OK too.)

I also was intrigued by reading material my dad had kept from getting a BSc in agricultural. One thing I learned about – at least to know it was possible – was generating electricity by wind. That has re-developed. I’ve lived many years with at least one foot in the camp of low-tech solutions to living and farming needs. I carry a lot of awareness of possibilities that – were I in position to do so – I’d want to explore more.

Re ‘mechanics as mentoring spaces’ – the most general concept holds true and we’re not yet paying attention. That (most general) concept is that hands-on, experiential learning in the presence of a mentor is a rich approach to education – even better in small groups than one kid alone. Mechanics shops were one venue – of the time. I’ll let go – won’t lead either of us into the weeds on the part of my mind that observes what we’re offering kids vs what we could.

I think the modern equivalent of slamming the phone is pressing a bunch of numbers before hanging up so that the person on the other end hears a lot of annoying dialing sounds. I know because someone did this to me once. It just wasn’t the same, though.

LOL! Recently, I was asked to bring a couple of containers of orange juice to the office for a special breakfast. Seemed like a simple task until I arrived at the store. There were SO many choices! I was absolutely paralyzed with fear I would choose the wrong one. Finally, a worker at the supermarket noticed me dithering. She handed me one and with a sympathetic smile said, “Everyone likes this one.”

She was right. My co-workers thanked me for bringing the “right one.” Phew!

There will always be a reason for us to be nostalgic about things past. Give it enough time and someone will be moaning about how no one watches normal TV anymore because everyone just closes their eyes and has the chip in their brains play it for them. You heard it here first.

You did it again! I remember going to the gas station with my parents, who always got full service. I don’t remember the last time I pulled up to a service station that had full service. It was neat to be able to drive up and have the gas filled, the windshield wiped, the tire pressure checked, etc.

This is a terrific post! In recent years, chats with my friends often goes like, ”oh you didn’t know he has a new car? Didn’t you see his update on ?” And when people invite me to an event, they had to make sure I click “Join”. Verbal agreement is no longer valid.This phenomenon is not necessary a good / bad thing. It’s just how our life is evolving now 🙂

I recently read an excellent book about how memory works (and in a delicious bit of irony, I have forgotten the book’s name!). One of the things the author discusses is how we are forgetting things because we have gadgets to “remember” for us. And if those gadgets ever stop functioning, we’re basically screwed.

Attempting to correct my tiny un-nurtured brain at the moment – so far it seems everything Rousseau (or JJR as the more familiar on-liners refer to him!) said looks to be true – yes we just create a world we don’t need in our hunger for speed and ‘convenience’ and then regret everything we yearned to be rid of.

Is it really losing a sense of one self because we become accustomed to technology? I love this post but losing what the older generation is used to doesn’t mean that the new generation doesn’t gain anything in return either. My fear is bringing that knowledge to the youngsters rather than worrying about losing a sense of self. It’s a problem of moving on in my own humble opinion.

It wasn’t anything deep. I just see a lot of evidence that many people don’t value the time they spend with others. It seems they would prefer to ignore those around them and check their text messages or Facebook page instead. Self-promotion and begging for attention have become more important than ever. It’s a generalization, I know, but the trend is there.

It definitely is! I can see your point perfectly but the problem seems to fade with age as well if you look at kids growing up. It starts as attention seeking but as time goes by they adapt and stop. I guess its a teenage thing “oh look at me I’m awesome(or not)” 🙂

I like this….I deal with this concept a lot with my students…their lives are so different even from the lives of some of my students just a few years ago. Things change SO fast, and we don’t even have time to contemplate what we’ve lost along the way. In that way, even MORE is lost!

I’ve grown fond of technology, but I have to say, I don’t think it is without its cost.

What seems to have really changed is that we used to develop tools to fill a specific need. Have you ever been to one of those old farm museums? It’s incredible what people were able to invent in order to get their work done. But now we seem to be creating technology just for the sake of novelty — and often, in the long run, the new gadget eats up more time than it saves.

Chuckle, many times, thanks. Mechanic – the real ones have experiences and add new ones to knowledge base. Privilege – recently was volunteering – picture this , the guy was using a John Deere binder built around 1910 and the twine tie mechanism has changed little in 70 years — I have an old twine tie baler and used “experiences” to help. What a treat for me!

The gliderpilot question: Yes, and not nearly as much as I would like– business, complications, spare time. Any interested — search for a Glider Operation – Sailplane – Soaring Site. Feel the lift of warm rising air ( all those white puffy popcorn clouds at 11:30 am have a thermal under them) Be a birdbrain, soar, takes training, balance, Change your mind with the Conditions – Essential!

Ah, hanging up on someone. I was on the phone to Centrelink once (our welfare agency in Australia) and talking to them on the cordless phone — I hadn’t received my pay (I was a student at the time) and I wondered why. Turns out I had sent my form in a day too early. So they didn’t pay me. I was SO ANGRY, but of course I couldn’t slam down the phone, because it was cordless. So, instead, I hung up (pressing the button really hard, like you suggest) and then kicked the wall. Except the walls where I was living were double-brick, and I bruised my foot so badly, I couldn’t walk. Which meant I couldn’t go to work that night.

Great post…two years ago, hubby and I were visiting Savannah and couldn’t find the place we were to stay. Seems most folks were anti house numbering in the historic district. So we stopped at the local fire department and asked for directions. I figured they would have to know. Well no clue. Ironically, the place we were looking for was right next door. Duh.

Sure you can still send your friend to the store for a bags of chips. Your friend has a cell phone right? Just let your friend know ahead of time whether you want potato, corn, pita or tortilla chips. Then said friend call call with the particulars of what’s available 🙂

Wow great post. I’m sure some of the new generation of kids reading this post are stuck wondering what any of this stuff means but to me, it’s somewhat nostalgic. It’s not so much that I want to rid myself of any of the conveniences I have now but looking back I wonder where the kids on bikes went and where the girls playing hopscotch disappeared to. Every time i look outside, the streets are void of children playing; rather, they’re on their steps or on their way out equipped with their cellphones. its a sad thing to see

I just went and read it! and i think you’re right. it’ll look like everyone got abducted by aliens since the streets that were once so populated will be void of just about everything that made these streets so exciting .

I remember those days…my mom would drive us to the local gas station, I’d hear the “ding! ding!” as our car pulled up to the pump and a man would walk briskly up to our car, ask her how much gas she wanted, she gave him money and then he’d do all the work for her as we all sat in the car and waited. He’d pump our gas, wash and squeegee our windshield (my most fave part), check the fluids under the hood and then give her change. He’d say, “G’day ma’am” as we drove away and I’d hear the familiar “ding! ding!” as he serviced the next vehicle that pulled in. Ahhh, ye olde customer service; TRUE customer service. Um yeah, those days are lonnngg gone. But, I LOVE the techie age that has creeped into life as I know it. I’d rather use Google maps than a crappy paper road map that has creases running through it. There are some ways of the past that I miss and remember with a bitter sweet sense of nostalgia and other ways of yonder that I have long since forgotten about – and that I was glad to forget about lol. Thanks for writing your blog. For just a few minutes, my mind and my memories were transported back to another place and time…

I can still hear the ding-ding in my mind, too. And I also love some of the high-tech gadgets, as well as our ability to connect and find information quickly. I just wish we could keep more of the good old stuff. Sometimes progress seems to be a step back, rather than forward.

I so much agree with you.
Things have lost the flavour. I remember when my Dad got his first pager and my sister & I were thrilled. But now all that wild excitement for things is not like it used to be. Even while buying the latest gadget the excitement lasts for a few hours or a day.

Reblogged this on Sam & Kanada and commented:
We record every second of an event rather than experience those special moments in our lives. We should be alert for anything we might lose along the technological advancement.

Charles, if you were here I would give ya a man hug! I can still picture the guy who worked on my dad’s car in 1957. He invented the dirty rag in the bag pocket. He could drop that thing and it would bounce! My dad loved that guy-he could fix anything on 4 wheels and charged next to nothing. Why? Hardly any electronics in a 1957 Oldsmobile. My wife and I always keep one phone in the house we can slam down. It’s very comforting when the call comes from the guy in Michigan saying that he is not a telemarketer…. Thx for the flashback.

Charlie: One of my compatriots at Metamora High School (then baseball coach) actually encountered Willie Mays, in beautiful downtown Peoria! He asked directions, & Doug drove him to the spot where the meeting was to happen. Five minutes of fame. Oh, I remember 1971 gas prices (sniff!).

Such an awesome post. I also like waiting for letters to come. The anticipation, the smell of stationary and the uniqueness of stamps, specially of letters from overseas. Sadly, not matter how well written or intimate an email is, it still is not tangible enough for me to evoke or have any long term memories associated with it.

Same goes for lunch boxes at school. I went to a school were we all sat down together to share our lunches. When lunch hour came, there was always excitement in the air. So many different cuisines to try and taste..so many different smells. None of those lunchables nonsense that we have today. If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can actually smell the lunch hour. Even now, even today after all these years. And whats sad is that, though I say all those years, it has not been all those years..Its been 10 years since I left those lunch hours behind yet it feels centuries ago. 😦

Isn’t that tremendously sad? There is a wealth of cultural knowledge held in those little lunch boxes and today’s kids are so much poorer for having never known that lil communal joy that was lunch hours..

A thought – we are paying for “gas” in soo many more ways now. But that’s a whole new blog for someone with accurate information.

Ah, remember when: Trust was top of the line character, (both ways). A young lady asked me to visit a historical site, out in the Prairie where the nearest civilization ,a farm house was over 2 miles away. I think it was on the first date..
of course you can trust nearly anyone that knows country and prairie and interested in history, has a fishing pole in his old car, just in case we find —

I’m a very calm person. But believe me, modern technology is one of the only things that makes me throw and slam things! The first month that I had a smartphone, it was more flying in the air because I threw it away than sitting safe somewhere.

Anyway, I like most of the new technological things. Only the gps system hasn’t convinced me. I always know in what street I am, but I have no idea anymore where on the world I am. A map is simple, easy to use and gives you an instant overview of the whole country if you like.

If you don’t like it, don’t buy it. If you like postcards, send them. I guess I’m to young to be so attached to old stuff.

Fortunately I married one of those mechanic type guys. He and his dad spend every Wednesday in our garage – fixing things, rebuilding things and talking about the good old days! Very old school.
On the flip side, the new gas station across town sells both diesel and Timmies Iced Capps. It is a win-win situation in my books!
Congrats to you (and Hippie) on being Freshly Pressed!

Wow, great post! Dredges up a lot of old memories. I used to put on a grand production of sniveling and whining to get my Dad to stop at Sinclair gas stations; which gave kids a plastic dinosaur. To no avail however, my Dad was a Gulf man.
I think all Dads were “Men” of some sort or another back then. You could be a Gulf man, or a Chevy man, or a Magnavox man, or all manner of things. Not sure there was a whole lot of reasoning behind it, but it was nigh onto a religious belief, and not open to change, or even discussion in some cases.
Now I’m the Dad; and I come to think of it, I might be falling short in this respect. Maybe I’ll hop on Google and find something I can put my faith in.

My father was a Chevrolet man, Whitney. Like your Dad, he had his brand of cigarettes and soft drinks and a variety of other things. I sometimes wonder what he would have made of all the choices we have today.

With regard to the petrol station thing, while I actually could change a flat tyre for you if I had all of the right tools, company policy stops me from doing so because of the risk of the site getting sued if something went wrong. A rather stark reminder of litigation culture imported to Europe from the United States there.

I will, however, pump petrol for those indisposed to doing it and I would (probably) be able to find your car’s radiator. I have to plead guilty on the lack of local reference; while I did live for a long time in the general vicinity of my site, I lived a few miles to the east and rarely ventured into the area where my site is located.

Another part of the problem, I think, is that neighborhoods change so quickly these days. Roads are always being widened and re-routed, with new stores and buildings going up everywhere. It’s getting harder to remain familiar with an area for long.

Reblogged this on Exploring Dementia and commented:
When I was reading this, I couldn’t help but think of something. If someone of my age (54) can feel nostalgic for those items that were once commonplace, but are now almost forgotten (like carbon paper and full-service gas stations), just think how much more so the older generations feel. And think how that can affect the person with dementia — who is having trouble understanding the world around them anyway, and then is confronted by something like a smart phone. Something to think about, to be sure.

I don’t know, I just put my phone on silent and don’t call back unless I feel like it. If I am expecting a call and one comes in I don’t want and bothering me, my phone has handy pre-made message like “F”” off” and I don’t have to say a thing, just press a button. And if there’s ever a time my phone number gets listed in some spammer directory, I’ll change it.

As for bad customer service, I find that I get a much nicer person when that person doesn’t exist except in some automated way and is able to answer all my questions with an FAQ. If I want to socialize I’ll text a friend or get on my meet-up app. Got to hand it to automation.

Insightful and funny post; I loved the ‘oasis of utility and information’ reference to gas stations. Who could have guessed we would miss those grimy hands cleaning our windshields?? My husband has always been so good with finding his way, now with ‘Siri’ we are constantly getting lost. As to availability, everyone has a ‘device’ nowadays and live and die by its slightest vibration; yet ‘send mom to voicemail’ has become the new power trip. And your line ‘no one gets up anymore’…oh my. Died laughing. So true. In the old days (can’t believe I just typed that) when the heavy black phone rang, we all ran to answer it. The thrill is gone. Thank you for making me laugh and think this morning!

I don’t have a device. We got a cell phone a couple of years ago, but I couldn’t tell you the phone number. All I ever do is charge it up every few days. The only time it rings (or vibrates) is when Koodo is calling with some exciting new offer that will increase our monthly bill. I’ve never sent a text message Have you?

In a similar vein, I like to read to the Mindset List from Beloit College – a scary reminder of the things that generations lose. Although I love Wikipedia, it has made me impatient with the rambling conversations of my parents or grandparents, always eager to whip out the Internet and answer the conflict.

Terrific post! And yes, handling such a delicate phone does make me want to slam it down on the pavement when I’m angry with a caller.

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